


Absolution

by ellejaymac



Category: Apostle (2018)
Genre: Blowjobs, Mild Blood, Rough Oral Sex, confession kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25206730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellejaymac/pseuds/ellejaymac
Summary: Prophet Malcolm's gotten wind of some transgressing and he offers you the chance to come clean...before he makes you...
Relationships: Malcolm Howe/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for being horny on main but have some Prophet Malcolm filth.

“Prophet Malcolm has called for you in the chapel.” Your brother said quietly, standing in your bedroom doorway, and looking at his feet. 

Your blood ran cold. “What, now? The night bell’s already been rung.”

“He said you were to go immediately.”

Without another word he turned and retreated down the passage. 

You didn’t waste any time, knowing that keeping the Prophet Malcolm waiting was only likely to fuel his anger, but your fingers shook as you donned your coat, and your knees felt like jelly as you walked up through the village to the small, wooden chapel. You searched for reasons why he could be summoning you at such an hour. Was he seeking assistance? That seemed unlikely. Was he going to chastise you? That seemed more likely given the setting. But why? And why at such an hour? What could be severe and urgent enough to break the curfew? You racked your brain looking for rules you could have broken, but struggled to come up with anything. Well, except for...

You could think of several transgressions that you had committed alone in your room, many fueled by the man himself, but there was no way that he could know about that, surely...

You reached the sturdy wooden door of the chapel and knocked softly, praying that no one would answer, that he would have changed his mind or somehow been diverted. But there was no such luck for you. His gruff voice called from inside, “Enter!”. You pushed the heavy door open and slipped inside, closing it softly behind yourself.

The Prophet stood on the dais at the east end of the chapel with his back to you, his form tilted slightly to the right as he leaned on his gnarled walking stick. The light in the chapel was low, only one oil lantern having been lit and left on the floor a few feet from the dark figure. You noted with relief that he was alone, with no extra men to carry out any gruesome punishments. Still, even alone he was not a man to be trifled with.

You lingered by the door, unsure what you should do. After a long silence, you heard him quietly say: “Approach.” 

You shuffled nervously up the aisle, and as you approached he turned at last to face you. His face was grim, his shirt and face spattered with blood, and you noticed then a sharp metallic smell in the room that hadn’t been there when you had gathered for the evening meeting several hours previous. There was a dark stain on the floor near Prophet Malcolm’s feet, and you knew that something unsavoury had just passed here.

He noticed you looking nervously at the stain and said “Lamb’s blood. A messy one, but we had to re-consecrate the chapel after a bit of...unpleasantness.” 

You nodded your head but didn’t say anything in reply, unsure if you were allowed to speak (or if you really believed him). 

“I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve called you here tonight? After the ringing of the night bell?” He said.

“Yes Malcolm.” you replied.

“Well, I’ve become aware of some rule-breaking and, in my kindness, I wanted to give you a chance to confess and make amends without prying ears. It doesn’t have to become the whole community’s business.” His expression was serious but not unkind, and you would have been put more at ease if you had any idea what he was talking about. 

“I - Malcolm I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

He sighed in frustration then, and your nerves tightened. He passed a hand over his face, smearing a still-wet blood stain across his cheek. Then he said the words that had filled both your dreams and your nightmares these past few months.

“Kneel. If you would be so kind.”

Your stomach flipped as you lowered yourself slowly to your knees. Malcolm began to pace back and forth in front of you, his stick connecting sharply with the floor on every other step.

“I called you here out of goodness, out of grace, to give you a chance to be honest. To make amends for your sin. Instead you spit in the face of my kindness.” He stopped pacing and stood in front of you, and you bowed your head towards the floor. You realised you were kneeling on the bloodstain you had noted earlier. “And yet, I’m too soft for my own good. I’ll give you one more chance to confess. What happens if you don’t take it is on your own head. Now, look at me and tell me, have you been transgressing?”

You looked into his blood-spattered face, his wide, staring eyes. You saw a small flake of dried blood above his eye crack as he furrowed his brows. Fear and arousal shot through you together and before you could stop yourself, you had whispered “Yes.”

Malcolm looked triumphant. “Ah, the truth at last.” Bending lower he said “And what have you been getting up to?”

“I’ve been...thinking…” you answered quietly. “Things I shouldn’t about...about people I shouldn’t”

“Oh you’ve been doing a lot more than thinking, believe me I know. I heard you last night.” 

At this your blood froze.

“I was walking home, just passing your house after finishing the checks with the night patrols, when what do I hear, but obscene noises from your bedroom. Breathing. Bedsprings. Moans. Well, I needed to know who you were fornicating with so you could both be brought to justice, so I waited by your open window until I recognised another voice, or heard their name.”

You flushed deeply, knowing already what he had heard as he waited.

“Imagine my shock then, when I heard my own name leave your mouth.” You dropped your eyes to the floor again, but he grabbed your chin and roughly forced your gaze back up to his.

“Well, I was surprised to say the least. I didn’t know that it was possible for me to be fornicating without my own awareness. No! Look at me!” he growled, as you had tried again to free your eyes from the power of his gaze. 

He continued: “And then I thought about it. About the way you always take your time leaving meetings. The way your eyes look for me first when we come up from the quay with new family members. And then I understood.”

He leaned in closer, so that his face was inches from yours. “If you’ll allow me to make my own confession, I went home hard as a rock.” At this you began to wonder whether this was simply a particularly vivid version of the dreams you had been having.

He released your face and straightened up, rubbing his lower back a little as he did. “Of course now I have a problem. How can I punish you for lust when I have been allowing your lust to go unchecked? When I myself had indulged? Enjoyed it, even? No, I thought it would only be fair to give you a chance to confess in private and have it dealt with quietly. But how do you repay my kindness? By spitting it back in my face!” He demonstrated his disgust by returning the favour, spitting a heavy gob of saliva onto your face. Your hand came up automatically to wipe it clean, but he knocked it away with his walking stick. 

“No. Your face should show the uncleanness inside.”

You looked into his face, your breath quick and your heart racing. He looked almost like a feral beast, his teeth bared, eyes wild and pupils blown. For a long moment you simply stared at each other, both breathing heavily. Then, slowly, his hand moved to his trouser buttons. You watched transfixed as he popped each button torturously slowly and, as he came to the last one, he murmured “Open your mouth.”

You complied quickly, opening your mouth for him. He popped the final button on his trousers and freed his hard cock at last. You had imagined that he would be big of course (anyone with eyes could see from the way his trousers tightened when he sat down that he was well-endowed), but you were not ready for the girth of him. He gave himself a few slow strokes, before taking a fistful of your hair and pushing his cock deep inside your mouth, until you felt him at the back of your throat. You gagged loudly and he pulled you gasping off him.

He slapped you then across the face, and you knew that his bloodied hand had left a smear across your cheek. “You were so eager for this last night, don’t tell me you’re struggling now?” You shook your head (as much as you could given that he was still holding you by the hair).

He grinned, pushed back into your mouth again, filling you up until your nose grazed the curls around the base of his prick. He smelled of sweat and musk and blood, and you revelled in the scent, inhaling it deeply. He held you there for a few seconds before he began to thrust into your throat. You concentrated on relaxing and not gagging again, but you were finding it hard, and you brought your hands up to brace yourself against his thighs. Just when you thought you were able to handle his movements at last, he pushed deeper and faster, leaving you gagging again. This time he slapped you without taking his cock out of your mouth.

“Not. Good. Enough.” he growled. His teeth were gritted and he sucked his breath in harshly through them. You saw your opportunity and took it, hollowing your cheeks as he drew out from his next thrust. That earned you a low groan of approval and you used your tongue to swirl around his head, tasting beads of salt. Before you could gain too much of an upper hand, he thrust harder than ever back into your mouth and set up a punishing pace, fucking your throat mercilessly. The sound of his grunts, the smell of his sweat and the taste of his cock, the feeling of him slamming into you had you throbbing, and you tried to touch yourself to gain some relief. He noticed and paused his thrusts to kick your hand away. 

“I didn’t say you could.” he growled. “You can deal with yourself back in your own house, since you enjoy your own hand so much. This is my space.” He pulled you roughly over his cock, and after a few more thrusts he was coming forcefully down your throat. You did your best to swallow every drop, and when he pulled out, you licked him clean until he pushed you away, tucking his softening prick back into his trousers. You stayed on your knees, waiting for him to say something, but he only buttoned his trousers back up, picked up the lantern and headed for the door. In the doorway he paused.

“Get up off your knees and go home. And mind the night patrol doesn't catch you or you’ll have worse than that to pay.”


End file.
